Coal to Diamonds
by Aloneall
Summary: A series of oneshots/snippets, in no particular order, of how Cassia Abernathy affected her father's lonely life.
1. The Winter Before the 67th Reaping

Cassia tiny hands dug their way into her father's long blonde hair, grabbing fists of it and wondering when his patience would wear out. He dropped her onto her bed and tucked her in. Winters in District Twelve were always cold, especially in Haymitch's huge house. He threw four blankets over her, then pulled the duvet over those. Her father's lips touched her cold nose. "You warm enough, sweetheart?"

Cassia couldn't humour her father. She was five, when she wanted answers, she wanted them immediately. She was sensitive, but extremely stubborn, like her father; well, before he had her. His patience had developed, as had everything in his life, really. He wasn't negligent, above all, he wasn't drunk. The second he'd found out he was going to be a father, he promised he'd do his best with her.

"Papa, why don't I have a mama?" Cassia eyes were big and full, and she looked just like... Her.

"Sweetheart, of course you have mama." Said Haymitch, far too quickly. It was a matter of time before she asked, of course it was. He didn't have to be completely truthful yet. "She's... A princess. She lives far away. She's smart, pretty, important... But she's too busy right now. One day, you'll meet her, alright?" He said, lip quivering slightly as he spoke, sentence punctuated with sad sighs and breaking of eye contact.

"When is oneday?" Cassia asked, as though his words referred to as specific time. "I want it to be oneday. Is oneday the same as someday? Because you always say you'll take me to the woods someday. It's never someday!" She said, increasingly agitated, tiny pale hands screwing up in fists, looking identical to her mother. He felt as though he was being scolded by the escort herself.

"Cassie, please go to sleep, okay? Don't mention it for a while and I promise we can go out and get you a new dress tomorrow. Deal?" He asked tiredly. She wasn't like the District kids, mostly because she wasn't one. Her eyes weren't Seam grey. They were blue, but not town blue, they were Capitol ice. She liked dresses more than playing games with other kids, she liked being pretty. It wasn't a bad thing, but she wasn't accepted. She'd be turned out of the Capitol, but she wasn't accepted here. Even her name wasn't native to her District. He saw the way the District 12 kids looked at her porcelain skin and blonde hair, she wasn't like them, and they knew it.

Cassia nodded, seeing the tears in her father's eyes. He sniffed and walked to his room, looking at the white phone beside his bed, supplied by whoever built this mocking structure. He picked it up, then put it back down. He couldn't call her, he didn't know where she was at the moment. He would have to wait until the summer, he couldn't possibly do that. Haymitch rooted through the drawers on his dressing table, pulling them out and throwing them against walls and onto his bed. Papers, pictures, and tiny little trinkets fell in every direction. He cursed as the thought of the word "trinket", actually. He needed her right now, she'd know what to do. He found the worn, wrinkled piece of paper he'd been looking for, inputting the final faded digit. Before the phone could begin to ring, he slammed it down.

"Dammit, Cass! Can't you see I'm busy!?" Haymitch shouted, not even making eye contact with the little girl in his doorway. She wore a white nightgown, pale hair falling messily across her face. Her little fingernails on her left hand were caught between her teeth, whilst her right hand focused on gripping the doll she always held close.

Haymitch's gaze softened. He sat on his bed and looked at Cassia for a long time. He patted his knee and she shuffled over, dragging her tiny body into his lap and sitting there comfortably, arms wrapped around his neck. She knew he didn't mean it, she was young but experienced. "Papa, I'm sorry... I just wanna see her." She swallowed.

"Don't apologise, sweetheart." Haymitch said, rubbing Cassia's back and smiling slightly as she patted his. He dropped her amongst the papers and stood. "You wanna sleep in here tonight?" He asked as he began collecting the papers. He found an important picture, which he set aside. Once the room was tidy, to his standard anyway, Haymitch sat up in bed with his daughter, four blankets over them and one picture in his hands.

Cassia curled up against her father's torso, and his huge arm wrapped around her. "So, you know Reaping Day? You know when that is. We'll mark it on the calendar. I promise, on that day, you can see your mama." Haymitch vowed, kissing Cassia's head. His daughter nodded and Haymitch gave her one of the pictures and let her look at it. "That's your mama and I holding you just after you were born... That's the newest picture I have of her." It looked nothing like Effie. She had no wig on, just messy hair, and no makeup. She looked perfect, but Cassia would never recognise her.

Cassia stared at the picture for a long time then smiled, she cuddled it to her chest, between herself and her father, who wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. They fell asleep, and the house felt a little bit warmer.


	2. Midsummer after the 61st Hunger Games

"How are you supposed to love our baby when you don't love me?" Effie asked, perched on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, covering the mouthpiece in the intervals between her soft speaking, as she didn't want him to hear her sniffing. The curly wire tangled around her pale finger as she awaited his response.

"I'm not supposed to love you." Haymitch answered, sat on the sofa in his living room. He'd received a letter from Effie, penned in her extravagant calligraphy, explaining their current situation. Effie was three months pregnant. Of course, she'd known just after they'd parted as they did annually, following the games, but she couldn't quite work out what to write. "What d'ya want from me anyway, sweetheart? A congrats on the baby card? A book of baby names? A parenting guide?" He asked, bitter that this child's life would be so difficult.

Effie's end of the line went quiet. Slowly, she responded in a falsely composed, very shaky voice. "I want her to live with you." She said, biting her lip. Before he could protest, she explained her reasoning for this decision. "Haymitch, it's nothing to do with me being a bad mother. It's... My situation. She wouldn't last long in the Capitol. Keep her parentage a secret to the public, well, on my part. She's just some Capitol whore's daughter. This is best kept under wraps." She said, rather vague. She had to be vague, of course her phone line was tapped.

"Would that be in the best interests of... Everyone?" And by everyone, of course Haymitch meant Snow.

"Of course." Effie said, sniffing. "I'll arrive once I'm nine months. Commercial trains don't run often, but the grain deliveries do, every month. I'll have her, she can be yours. Nobody needs to know, except perhaps a doctor."

"She? It's a girl, huh?" Haymitch asked, a small smile playing on his lips. He pushed the horrifying thoughts to the back of his mind; her being Reaped, her mother being tortured or killed, her being turned away by society. Instead, he thought of having his own little girl, of having someone.

"Yes. It is, yes. Perfectly healthy, strong heartbeat." Effie noted, smiling a little and placing her hand over her small stomach. With her extravagant outfits, a pregnancy would be easy to hide. "But, Haymitch, this is not the time to play happy families."

"So, she'll be an Abernathy?" Haymitch said, not having considered his family name ever being passed on after all of the misfortune in his life. He hadn't fully thought of the situation, but at least it would be easy to hide. He was a recluse, nobody would ask questions, and he'd be satisfied with that, even if his child had to grow up in isolation. Isolation was better than being forever on Snow's doorstep.

Effie sighed. "Of course. She's all yours." The escort said, lying back on the bed and feeling horribly empty. "Oh, Haymitch. I promise to send you updates about her and I. When we have to go to the Games next time, will you tell me all about her? Every year after that, as well?" Effie asked, missing her child even though she was still so close to her. "Make sure she knows I love her."

"Sure thing, princess. Anything else whilst I got you on the line? Do you have some weird craving? Strawberries?" Haymitch teased, only able to deal with the uneasy situation through laughing it off, for now anyway.

Effie smiled slightly and sighed, but there was a lighter tone to her voice as she did so. "Lamb, actually. Goodnight, Haymitch." She said.

"Night." The victor responded, putting the phone down. He stared forward for a few minutes, head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. After which, Haymitch stood, gathering every last drop of alcohol in his house and taking it outside. In the cold night he stood, pouring liquor down the street - he had more to live for now.


	3. The 67th Reaping

Innocent children, angry young people and anxious adults lined the square in District Twelve, in utter despair for their repetitive cycle of organised mass murder. Usually, on Reaping Day, Haymitch would leave Cassia with his old acquaintances Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen, who would take care of his daughter throughout the event in exchange for a small amount of financial support for Cassia. Of course, they had daughters of their own, and did not in fact hate Cassia for being of Capitol descent. This time, he was taking his daughter backstage. He'd return her to the Everdeens later, but for now, she'd finally meet her mother.

"Should I call her ma', like how you call her sometimes? Or mama like how I call her? Or... Mother?" Cassia asked, rambling, cuddled against her father's side as he walked his way through the crowd, inside the Town Hall. Carrying her through the masses proved much easier, especially for his nerves. Haymitch truly despised leaving her during the Games, because one day, it would be her out there. There was no doubt about it.

"I think she'd like mother best... But whatever you feel like calling her." Haymitch said, sitting Cassia down outside the room Effie had always designated as her personal District Twelve preparation room. He walked in first, in order to prepare Effie. "She's outside." He said quietly as he came behind her in the mirror and touched both of her shoulders.

"How is she? I read your letter a thousand times - is her flu better? Of course, I couldn't reply, and the phone number you have isn't right anymore, and..." Effie realised she was exasperated and rambling, so she bit her lip and stood, turning to the father of her child. "What if..." She stopped, hugging Haymitch gently.

The victor smiled a little, his arms felt best around Effie. It was a joy having no cameras around, as this certainly wasn't permitted. "She's perfect. Hair's grown. She looks like you, when you're not... Pink." He teased lightly, moving to the door and opening it.

A very little blonde girl stood in the doorway, looking up at her parents. Her wavy hair bounced against her shoulders as she turned her head up to look at Effie. She remembered Effie as the pink lady on stage. She didn't look like the picture, but Cassia had faith in Haymitch. "Mother?"

"Cassia." Effie almost cried, in her thick, Capitol accent, tears filling her eyes. She crouched down in her uncomfortable heels and held her arms out wide for the little girl.

"You're from the Capitol?" Cassia asked, colliding with Effie's chest and hugging her close. "Is that why you can't live with me and papa?" She asked, wanting to cry all of a sudden. She was uncertain of why, likely because she'd never felt such a rush of emotion.

"Yes, darling, that's exactly why." Effie said, lifting her up and holding her on her hip, so very naturally. The woman's painted lips brushed against Cassia's forehead. "But I love you all the same. I love you, my darling, you have to remember that. It's hard to speak to you often enough now, or to be around you and your father, but we'll find a way." She explained, holding Cassia close, then taking a good look at her. All she'd seen were photographs, and Haymitch's shaky hands had never done Cassia's beautiful face justice through the lens of an old camera. In five years she hadn't looked at her little girl, and she could finally talk to her.

"I love you, mama. Papa didn't tell me my mama was the pink lady." Cassia laughed, body shaking with chuckles against Effie's torso, making her laugh along. "I tell you what, you can have a present." She said, sitting her daughter on her dressing room stool and crouching behind her. Effie unclipped a gold necklace from around her own neck and clasped it around her daughter's. "There. Gold. Perfect."

Though Cassia didn't fully understand, she grinned. She loved the gift, she loved her mother's voice, she loved her mother's small, warm hands. She loved this moment. Haymitch, observing from a corner, both happy and upset, stood. "But Cass, sweetheart. You can't tell anyone who your mama is, okay? Only Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen know. And we gotta keep it that way, or you won't see mama again, understand?" He asked, smiling softly with a friendly expression.

As Cassia nodded, her mother gave her one last kiss on the cheek, then watched Haymitch take her away. The second Cassia was gone, she felt awful. The scenario mirrored five years ago, and Effie fell back on a plush stool and held back her sobs, fanning the tears away from her eyes.

When Haymitch returned, he said nothing. Nothing could be said. He held Effie and waited for either of them to feel better. No better feeling came, but Effie's curtain call did. He watched her onstage, plucking names from the bowl, and counted down the years to when she'd have to read out her own daughter's name.


	4. February of the 62nd Hunger Games

In the February snow walked a heavily pregnant, unrecognisable Effie Trinket. She could have been a District girl. Her hair hung messily down her face, and she wore a large grey coat. She'd told no one she was coming, not even Haymitch. She had no means to contact him, as the president kept restricting every form of contact they had. She arrived at his door, truly exhausted. "H... Haymitch." She panted, pressed against the door.

Almost immediately, the victor opened it and caught her. The night was freezing, she was practically ice. He carried her inside carefully, and laid her down beside the fire. "Are you alright?" He asked carefully, wrapping a blanket around her and kissing her temple. His hands shook as they brushed over her bump, so he rested one there and felt his daughter kick for the first time. Haymitch couldn't help but smile.

"A little cold, and that train was disgusting, but I'll surely get over it. I should go into labour soon, probably over the next few days." Effie said, lying back and wincing in pain, one hand on her stomach, panting. "I'm exhausted, I do apologise. Pillow, please." She said, wincing again. As he placed a pillow under her head, he watched her, shaking his head.

"Princess, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure this is labour." Haymitch said, biting his lip. "Wait here, sweetheart, I'll go get someone." He said, pressing a kiss to her lips gently, then one to her stomach.

Minutes later, an exasperated Haymitch returned with Mrs. Everdeen, a very qualified healer, who had only given birth to her second child a month previous. "Maybe our girls can be friends, Miss Trinket." She said as she sat down beside Effie, checking her over. Haymitch looked through her bag and found her morphling, filling the syringe then injecting Effie with it, kissing her hair. He stayed by her face, trying to keep her calm. It didn't work too well, if he was honest, but it could have been worse.

An hour or so later, there was a shrill cry, and a baby sat in Mrs. Everdeen's arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Haymitch repeated, to Mrs. Everdeen, to Effie and to perhaps fate its self. He took the baby and cleaned her, smiling at her beautiful little face. She was placed on Effie's chest, and Effie put a hand on her daughter.

From the second the baby touched her, Effie did nothing but silently cry. She cried and cried and cried repeatedly. She wanted to be here, in Twelve with Haymitch and their child. She wanted her family, but Snow would never allow that. All she had was now. The woman had a photo taken with her family, by Mrs. Everdeen, and spent the night with Haymitch and the baby, learning how to feed her carefully, laughing with Haymitch about the beautiful child they'd created, and thinking sadly about how soon she'd be put into the Games. "Cassia. Cassia Abernathy." Effie whispered, just as the three were falling asleep.

"That's perfect." Haymitch said, smiling gently and kissing Effie's lips. "I love her, princess, I promise, I will love her."

"I know you will, and I wish I could." Murmured Effie, enjoying the dying hours of her only night of being part of this family.


	5. Cassia's First Day of School

"Papa, papa!" Six-year-old Cassia grinned as she ran from the school gates into her father's arms. "I made a friend! Well, I already knew her, but we're really best friends now. She's blonde, like me. She doesn't look as different as I do, but she still makes me feel less different. She's very kind and I let her share some of that special chocolate you gave me because it was my first day of school!" The little girl rambled on as Haymitch picked her up and carried her home in his rather light Autumn overcoat.

Haymitch had been worrying throughout the day. He'd spent most of it pacing, if he was honest. He even went out and bought her a dress, just so she had something nice if the entire day went terribly. He worried about her constantly. The things people said, the things they would accuse her of. Because she was a Capitol child, they'd falsely believe she had some kind of privilege, and very few understood that things were quite the opposite. Of course, Haymitch was rich and stable, but Cassia was, for all intensive purposes, a Victor's child. And Victor's children were reaped. It was tradition. It was sick, but it was traditional, some kind of awful Capitol-induced karma. He cursed Smow for that. Haymitch had to pull himself from his thoughts in order to respond to Cassia's good news.

"You did, huh? That's great. What's her name?" He asked, grinning. Finally, Cassia could stop feeling so lonely. Effie would be so happy to hear that her little girl had a friend. Haymitch hoped they'd be able to invite her around for dinner, as he was tired of Cassia talking to no one but himself and the geese.

"Prim." Cassia said. "Her father teaches her the names of flowers and he and her sister know songs. But Primrose can't sing. Neither can I."

Haymitch smiled when he heard the name. Thank god, an Everdeen. A family he trusted, who knew of Cassia's history. Perhaps they understood a little. Though, of course, they wouldn't have told their six-year-old that Cassia was the child of an escort and a victor. That was punishable, prohibited and greatly frowned upon. One day, Snow would prosecute them, so for now, lying to most people was far easier. He thought about how she talked of Katniss' father, and wondered how he compared. "Am I a good papa, Cass?" He asked as they walked through the town. Both were very good at ignoring disgusted glances or verbal abuse, by this point.

"Obviously, papa. You let me name all the geese!" She said, smiling as he brought them into their isolated Victor's Village. He opened the door and let her rush inside. "Papa, can you braid my hair?" Cassia asked.

Haymitch looked at his shaking hands, ashamed of his incapability. He couldn't possibly braid hair, he didn't know how, let alone how his trauma likely wouldn't allow him to do so. Effie would. Of course, Effie would know everything about little girls and being pretty, and making her hair just how she wanted it, but he didn't. He couldn't do it. How could he possibly be a good father as Cassia got older? He supposed he'd only have to wait until she was twelve, then he'd lose her forever.

"C'mere, I'll try." Haymitch said, looking at his little girl and carefully trying to braid her hair without pulling it too much. After several minutes, it was done. Her hair looked terrible, lumps coming out of the braid. Cassia looked up at him and laughed, and he laughed back. Soon, both couldn't stop laughing at Haymitch's terrible attempt. "You wait 'till I tell your mama about this." He chuckled.

"Papa, you don't have to be able to do my hair. You do so much more than that." Cassia said, her voice sounding as collected and sincere as her mother's often did. Haymitch couldn't help but smile back and kiss her pale forehead. Perhaps he didn't have to be a mother and a father, he was a good father. And now Cassia had a friend, a friend she would cherish forever.


	6. Snow's Spring Ball Before the 62nd Games

A month exactly had passed since Cassia's birth, all Effie had done was sit at home and clutch at her empty stomach. She'd heard nothing from Haymitch, he couldn't contact her. She wanted to hold her daughter, but she couldn't. Instead, Effie decided to put on her best new dress and go out to a Capitol party with her friends. Snow's Spring Ball usually excited her. She loved the limelight, the food, the dresses. This was the perfect place to take her mind away from Cassia and Haymitch.

"Effie, you've lost weight. That why you've been such a recluse for the past month?" Flavius asked, circling the escort in her brand new green dress. The corset pulled her stomach in tight, there was no evidence of a pregnancy ever having happened.

Effie gave Flavius a courtesy smile. Having to hide her pregnancy, and seeing the world through the eyes of a woman who'd lost her daughter to its cruelty, had left Effie with a more critical view of the Capitol. "Flavius how dare you! I've been busy!" She said playfully, swatting his side.

"Well, I suggest you stop being busy and start mingling a bit more. You're barely a socialite anymore." Flavius said, eyebrows knitting together as he looked at Effie. "This isn't fashionable... Effie what happened to you?" He asked, rolling his eyes and walking away from her.

Effie looked at her closest friend, heartbroken. They weren't really friends as such, associates who used each other for social occasions, but they'd never admit that. This was the first time she'd admitted that to herself. Barely a socialite? She didn't believe it. Effie shook it off and found Octavia, smiling at her. "Darling, it's been so long!" She exclaimed, kissing Octavia's cheeks.

"Sorry, I don't believe we've met." Octavia asked. Before the pain became evident on Effie's face, she laughed. "Effie, darling! Look at you, you're... Fat. Not that there's anything wrong with being fat, but you're little. Might I suggest." Said Octavia, handing Effie some pink liquid to make her vomit.

She wasn't joking, certainly. The look on her face, the looks Effie had been getting for this entire event; Effie had changed. She didn't belong here because a big part of her sat in District 12 with her daughter and Haymitch. She took the liquid to a bathroom and looked in the mirror. As she closed her eyes and pressed the cool glass to her lips, she felt a presence in the room. A man, whom she'd never met before, stood beside her. He locked the bathroom door. Goodness knows how he'd snuck about so well, but nothing about this scenario could possibly be good.

"Effie Trinket. District 12 Escort. Socialite. Mother." He hissed the last word into her ear, and her hand faltered and dropped the glass, spilling pink liquid all over her white shoes. "Snow knows. And if you ever act on this disgusting outcome, if you ever suggest you had liaisons with a scruffy, District, alcoholic, he will end you. But not before you watch your precious little... Cassia, is it? Yes. One day, you'll call out her name. And it'll be all your fault she's dead." The man said, before pinning Effie to the wall. "This will never happen again, understand?" He asked, gripping her wrists tightly, leaving bruises already on her pale skin.

"I understand." Effie panted, trying to remain strong, but tears stung her eyes at the thought of something happening to her innocent daughter.

"No. That isn't what I meant. A promise isn't enough, Miss Trinket." He said. Slowly, her eyes drooped shut and she realised that he'd injected her with something to make her sleep. Soon, she hit the floor.

When Effie woke the following morning, she was in a pristine Capitol hospital room. Immediately, she knew what they'd done. Upon checking the band around her wrist, it became certain. Snow had ordered for Effie to be sterilised. Cassia would be her only child, and she could never be a real mother to her. It was the perfect way to hurt Effie. The perfect way to remind her that she couldn't go against Snow.


	7. January of the 69th Hunger Games

Haymitch sighed heavily as he stood at the foot of the stairs, listening quietly to what was going on above him. He clutched a cup of hot cocoa in each hand, willing them still so that they didn't spill over. Usually, when Cassia had Prim over, Haymitch felt calm. But this time, it wasn't for reasons so wholesome as a simple kid's sleepover. Mr. Everdeen had died in a mining disaster, which Cassia didn't fully understand. Perhaps it was best for Prim to be around Cassia, because they could work things out slowly, together. Though their innocence would be shattered sooner or later, and at age seven, it seemed far too soon for Haymitch. Deaths in the Games were different. They were distant for Cassia. They were televised. This hit close to home, and she couldn't understand why Prim's papa wasn't coming home. Haymitch honestly wished he could do more, but this is the most help Mrs. Everdeen would allow him to give. He sat on the bottom step, and imagined how Effie would give the little girls makeovers, and take their minds off of it.

"Where do you think your father is now?" Asked Cassia, sitting up on her big, comfy bed and looking at her best friend. Prim looked different, empty, lost. "I think he's watching you. Papa says that his parents are gone, but they still watch us. And they know who I am. And they're proud of me. He's gonna see everything you do, Prim. You're gonna make him proud some day." She added, wise beyond her years.

Prim looked at Cassia, tears filling her blue eyes. "Thank you." She whispered, throwing her arms around Cassia for a hug. She looked out of the window, at the pink sunset. "You think he's in the stars? Or the clouds?" She asked quietly, still clutching close to her best friend.

"No, Prim. He's everywhere. Like, he's part of the trees and the air and the flowers and the snow." Cassia answered, smiling then sitting back against the headboard. Her father interrupted with two mugs of cocoa, at just the right time. He handed them over then kissed Cassia's head.

"Prim, you want me to take some food for your mother?" Haymitch asked carefully. He was aware that the Everdeens didn't want help, but he didn't want them to starve. He hadn't seen them in days, Prim kept running over to his house on her own accord to be with Cassia.

"No, Katniss is gonna come and get me." Prim said, standing up and wiping her eyes. She downed the cocoa in practically seconds, then waited. Minutes later, Katniss knocked on the door, but Prim fled quickly before Haymitch could talk to the older Everdeen sister. He sighed and walked back upstairs to Cassia, sitting up in bed with her.

"Don't leave me ever." Cassia said, burying her face in his chest and sobbing loudly. Haymitch honestly could have said the exact same thing to Cassia and cried; but he couldn't. Haymitch had to pretend things would be okay. He'd always be there for her, but she couldn't be there for him always. He despised this cruel world for that.

Haymitch held her very close and kissed her head. "I'm not going anywhere. Mama and I love you so much... We'll be here always." He sniffed, holding her closer yet and giving out a little sob. He needed Effie.

After a good few hours of watching the sunset and talking about life, conversation turned to Effie. "Do you love her, papa?" Cassia asked softly, eyes fluttering open and closed, barely awake.

Haymitch thought of everything. He thought of her silly dresses, her ridiculous wigs and her strange makeup. He thought of her sitting in his room in the Capitol, on quiet mornings during the Games, wearing his white shirt and letting her blonde hair free from the constraints of a wig. But she hadn't looked at him that way in years, in fact, she hadn't touched him in years, and sometimes he wondered if she was happier being away from him. "Of course I love her." And nothing could change that. Nothing she could say or do. She'd given him the two most precious things in his life, Cassia and herself for a short time.

Unfortunately, Haymitch had taken too long to answer, and his daughter was fast asleep. He tucked her in then walked to his room, staring at the phone beside his bed. Phoning Effie was a risk to her own security, so he decided it was best to suffer in silence.


	8. The 62rd Reaping

Another Reaping, another two names, another trip to the Capitol; except this time, Haymitch and Effie actually had something to talk about. Haymitch approached Effie after she'd called the tributes' names, and they walked together to the train. He reached for her hand the second they were alone, and a flash of pain brushed across her painted features. She didn't think she could handle it, after what Snow had done to her, she'd never be able to give him another child once Cassia was gone. Effie took her hand back slowly and gave him a small smile, she could barely fake one. "How is she?" Effie said, composing herself.

"Perfect. Seriously, she's great. Totally healthy, behaving like a normal infant. I hate to leave her when she's so young, but... I can't exactly bring her to the Capitol." Haymitch said, biting his lip and walking into the main car. He sat himself down on the sofa and put his feet on the glass coffee table, if only to annoy Effie a little. When Effie didn't flinch, Haymitch looked worried. "Princess, c'mon, aren't ya gonna get mad that I got my shoes on the table?" He asked, a little playful.

"No. Haymitch, don't pretend that this didn't happen. You and I have a daughter. Haymitch, I... Goodness. She's going to grow up hating me." She said, sniffing a little and sitting herself down on the sofa. "I'm the woman who sentences children to death. I'm the one who'll never have to pay for it. She won't understand that. She'll be ashamed... She can never know." Effie spoke shakily, sobs escaping her lips occasionally, looking at Haymitch. Tears pooled at her lower lids, but she refused to let them spill.

They had around an hour to chat until the tributes would be done saying farewell to their families. "No. Don't you dare say that. She's not going to hate you. I'll tell her exactly who you are as soon as she wants to know. She won't think of you that way. She'll be too young to think bad of you. I'll show her that you're more than this facade." Haymitch practically scolded, in his best mentor voice, but the last part faltered and it was indeed a sincere compliment.

"Haymitch..." Effie's thick accent sighed, she was going to lecture him about how wrong he was, but she seceded against it. If she didn't tell him she'd been sterilised, perhaps she'd be able to get over it, she thought. It could be her secret. It's not like she'd ever wanted children, or that he'd want more. Effie sniffed and crossed her legs daintily. "Tell me about her."

Haymitch gave Effie a small smirk, looking sideways at her. He took his feet off the coffee table and placed them on the ground. "She's small, Mrs. Everdeen says she's smaller than she should be, but she's doing fine. Blonde, but more white-blonde, like you are. Her eyes are just like yours. Her skin's pale too, like yours." Haymitch realised how much he was directly comparing Cassia to Effie, which made him stop. He missed one when the other was around because they were so damn similar. There wasn't much more to say about Cassia; she was just a tiny Effie. "And she's loud as hell when she cries." He added with a small smile, trying to brighten the mood.

"Probably down to me and my big mouth." Effie murmured, tears spilling over her bottom lids. She couldn't hold it back. Being with Haymitch was a crippling nostalgia, and his presence made her miss Cassia all the more. "Haymitch, darling, it wouldn't hurt if we slept together now, would it?" Effie asked in a voice hushed, collected, but immediate and rushed, tilting her head to one side and looking at her.

Haymitch didn't smile, he merely shook his head. Of course he wanted to be close to her, but he knew it wasn't what was best for them. "Not at all." He said, nonchalant, standing and kissing her cheek. He frowned a little when Effie flinched, then let her leave in order to greet the tributes. The Games were much harder for Haymitch without liquor. He felt like Effie without her makeup on. Sober didn't suit him, but if he fell off the wagon now, he'd never get back on.

That evening, Haymitch was sat on his bed, wearing a long sleeved white sweater and pyjama bottoms. "You wanna put my shirt on, sweetheart?" He asked. Effie always wore his clothes to bed during the Games, something he found horribly endearing. But today, she shook her head, already in a silk nightgown.

She laid down on his bed, under the covers, and looked at him. "Does she really look like me?" Effie asked, heartbroken.

Haymitch nodded, frowning and getting under the covers beside her. "Just like you, princess." He whispered. He'd needed to be near Effie for months now. He regretted not being there for her pregnancy, and now he was sober he felt he needed somebody. At least he had Cassia to love.

Effie grabbed Haymitch's face and kissed him, frowning. "I... I miss you." She whispered, hoping he wouldn't feel the scar across her abdomen as he got closer. She couldn't say she loved him, and it broke her heart, because usually, it was the other way around. She knew how it felt to love someone who couldn't love her, and she couldn't believe she was repaying that horrible favour.


	9. The 74th Reaping

Haymitch recalled the scene, carrying his little girl against his chest, pushing gently through the crowds at the Reaping. Except this time, things were different. This time she was walking beside him, and she wasn't so little anymore. His daughter was twelve. A wretched age for a District child in Panem, turning twelve always caused hurt and anxiety. Haymitch had cried on her birthday. For Cassia, turning twelve was suicide.

On the morning of her twelfth birthday, Cassia received the usual presents from her father - dresses, scarves, a new pair of shoes - and an additional, surprise gift. Effie had specifically told Haymitch not to open it until Cassia's twelfth birthday when she'd placed it in his trust last Games, and he'd obeyed, because he couldn't bear to think about how she'd chew off his ear about not keeping promises if he didn't. When Cassia opened the delicate purple box, about the size of a shoebox, lined with paper and glitter to make it look pretty, she smiled. Inside lay a delicate necklace, the pendant an intricately constructed miniature dagger. It wasn't functional in the slightest, it was decorative. Haymitch thought for a moment, why would Effie give this to her? Then he remembered his Games. How his weapon was a knife. She was likening them, calling Cassia a victor before she had the chance to be told otherwise. Haymitch held back a sob and held his daughter close, when he realised that the gift she was so mesmerised by, was in fact, a token.

Haymitch crouched down to his daughter's level. It had been easier not to tell her that her name was certainly going to come out of the bowl. It was unlikely that there were any names written on those papers in other than Cassia Abernathy's own. He kissed her head. "I love you, Cassia. Sweetheart, don't forget that." He said softly, holding her shoulders. He bit his lip and broke eye contact. Tears stinging at his grey eyes, Haymitch sniffed and pulled himself together. It was far more difficult than he'd ever imagined.

Cassia's eyebrows knit together and her mouth opened slightly. "Papa, what's wrong?... I don't understand. There are hundreds of other kids here, and my name's only in there once." She said. She was smart and observant, collected and calculated. "Papa, it's not gonna be me." Cassia smiled.

Haymitch nodded and gave her a slow smile. "Sorry, first Reaping... It's always the hardest. That's what the Everdeens say, anyway, right?" He asked, stroking her cheek.

"That's what Prim told me." Cassia answered, nodding and kissing her father's cheek, before approaching the desk and saying her name.

Haymitch trudged backstage, finding Effie as quickly as he could. She was sat before her mirror, a very fine layer of makeup on her face. "Every time I paint it on, I cry it off." She explained the second she saw Haymitch's reflection in the mirror.

"She's wearing her token... Reference to my Games, nice touch, sweetheart." He said, looking at Effie and sighing. "At least it's us who'll train her." Haymitch swallowed, trying to keep it together.

"Out." Effie said sternly, turning to him, tears in her eyes. "Haymitch, out. You are aware of how difficult this is, you don't have to speak about it any further. I don't want to see anyone, let alone the man who put me in this mess!" She hissed, sniffing. Haymitch was offended, she was never so irrational. He was sat in his dressing room, a flask of liquor in his hand. He looked at it, and looked, and looked, and drank. It tasted awful in the best way; the burning in his throat felt like an old friend. He'd needed that for sure. After all, he'd given up drinking for Cassia, soon she wouldn't be around, so there was no harm in starting again. When he walked to the stage, his hands shook more than ever before, partly from nerves and partly from needing more to drink. Effie and Haymitch were as pale as each other by the time the latter had made his way to his seat.

Effie, in her bright yellow dress, gave the audience a grin. "Welcome, welcome." She sang, deciding to skip the formalities, for fear of breaking down. Usually, Cassia was stood with the Everdeens, beaming at her mother, and it was a treat for Effie to see. Unfortunately, Effie caught a glimpse of this again. She could see the older Everdeen girl, the younger one - Primrose? Ah yes, Cassia's closest friend - and Cassia herself. The white-blonde grinned at Effie, the only child smiling in a crowd of anxiety. Effie then realised that she hadn't spoken in a good few seconds. "Ladies first." She said, still making direct eye contact with her naïve daughter.

Effie's long, silver nails dug their way into the bowl, clawing on one fateful strip of paper. She pulled it out and looked at the audience, swallowing audibly and unraveling it. To no surprise, Effie read aloud: "Cassia Abernathy." She said, with no enthusiasm, only pain, tears in her eyes. She could feel the eyes on her, the people rolling theirs. They thought the escort was only being dramatic as a part of the Capitol show. Of course, the Capitol had to act like they cared for a victor's child.

Cassia went even more pale, taking a shaking step forward. It couldn't be her, she didn't want it to be her. She looked at her mother and shook her head. "Come, come." She heard Effie call, hand out, tears running down her cheeks. The young girl looked at Prim, who was fighting to say something, but she just couldn't. The words were trapped in her throat, and they held there for the time being. As Cassia reached the stage, some people smirked. They'd be glad to see the back of her Capitol appearance.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?" Effie asked, the microphone shaking violently in her hand, as she bent over and nearly fell over in her chunky pink heels. Haymitch watched without words, wishing he had more liquor.

"I volunteer." A small voice called. The words had finally freed themselves from Prim's lips. She couldn't bear to see this happen. For Cassia's own mother to call her name, for her father to train her to no avail, it couldn't happen. Prim cared about Cassia, and for everything she'd helped her through, Prim decided Cassia had never done anything to deserve this injustice. Effie looked up, tears halting. "Who was that? Who... Who said that? Speak up, girl!" She said, mouth curving into a grin. Effie's magenta lipstick glistened in the midsummer sun as her white teeth bared themselves to the audience.

Katniss' eyes widened. Prim had volunteered herself. Prim? There was no question about what she'd do next, out of sisterly love, she had to. "Katniss Everdeen. I volunteer as tribute." Nobody had to know that it was Prim who'd volunteered. Katniss would do it. She held Prim back and kissed her head. "I have to do it." She whispered.

Cassia looked on in horror at Prim, screaming for her sister to come back. "Katniss, no!" Cassia called, clinging to her mother. Effie should have acted surprised, but she couldn't do it. She hugged Cassia right back, and before anyone could put two and two together, looked up, speaking into her microphone. "Aren't you a sweetheart?" She laughed, looking at Cassia, who freed herself and rushed back to her father's side.

Haymitch barely heard any more of the Reaping, he was too busy holding Cassia, whispering to her that he and Effie loved her, and she shouldn't blame herself for what Katniss had done. Shortly after the proceedings had finished, after Mrs Everdeen and Prim had said farewell to Katniss, he found the family, with Effie. They hadn't said a word to each other, but they both knew they needed to find the Everdeens, and they knew what they wanted to say. The second she saw the blonde woman and her daughter, Effie grabbed Haymitch's hand.

"Mrs Everdeen, your daughter did a most courageous thing in order to save mine, and I could never thank you enough for that, Primrose." She said, placing a pale hand on the child's shoulder and sniffing.

"In return, we're gonna do all we can to save Katniss. She's a fighter anyway, she's... Promising." Haymitch said, looking Mrs Everdeen in the eye. The Everdeens could barely speak to them, they just nodded and walked on.

That night, on the train, Effie found herself curled beside Haymitch in bed, awake. "Haymitch, do you think she'll have to go next year?" She said quietly.

"Your hair's grown a lot." Haymitch answered, fiddling with the messy curled on her white-blonde head.

"Haymitch, I want an answer." She said, frowning, unamused.

"Yes, alright. Then maybe next year you can blame me for getting you into this mess." He stopped playing with her hair, not regretting his bitter words.

"You vindictive-" Effie began in a loud, angry voice, before composing herself. "I was upset, I wasn't in the right mindset, you can't blame me for saying that! Please, Haymitch, I can still smell the liquor on your breath."

"One drink, Effie." He hissed, turning over in bed and shutting his eyes. He didn't sleep, but he had no interest in speaking to her either. Luckily, their bad terms did not affect the outcome of the 74th Hunger Games.


	10. The 65th Victory Tour

Effie laughed as she pressed a champagne glass to her lips, sipping the bubbling liquid. Snow's mansion was lit beautifully, for Panem's newest victor, Finnick Odair. He was the perfect example of a tribute, but really he was only a child. The more she looked at him, the more of a mother she felt. He was but a victim of Snow's wicked game. She decided that she couldn't drink any more, and set her drink down. When she turned to her side, Portia looked shocked. "Effie, dear, you look unwell."

She thought the dizziness was from her anxieties over seeing Finnick as a child she wanted to protect, and as a result being reminded of Cassia. It certainly wasn't. "I'm sorry." She said, rushing to the bathroom and throwing herself against the wall. She put her head down and vomited, realising her lips were burning. When she touched them, they bled somewhat. Typical Snow. As soon as she felt somewhat safe, he had to remind her of the constant danger of having Snow over her shoulder. The poison hadn't been strong, or it wouldn't have been burns in her mouth causing the bleeding. Luckily she hadn't had much to drink, so she didn't need to seek medical attention. If he'd been looking to kill her, he would have done it. This wasn't an attempt at murder, it was a threat.

Whilst Effie was hunched over the porcelain, Haymitch walked a lonely road back in District 12. He'd spent the evening at the Hob, trying to make his daughter seem less Capitol, and more a part of District 12. It wasn't fair for her to be excluded from everything like this. Whilst Sae had been holding her, he'd gone outside for a little fresh air, alone. In the thin layer of snow, he stood, watching as it began to fall heavier. The road was dark and empty, or so he thought.

A hand shoved the man against the wall of a building opposite, kicking his shins expertly. He groaned as his head hit the ground, and his vision turned black at the edges. Looking up, he saw a peacekeeper, and not one of the easily influenced District 12 peacekeepers - a professional. The man kicked his arm and stamped on his ankle. Haymitch could barely make a sound for pain and loss of consciousness. He was dragged up seconds later and thrown back into the Hob, and hit the floor, coated in snow and blood. There was something unnervingly symbolic about the experience.

"Papa!?" Cassia screeched, looking at him. Haymitch knew this was a warning. The people of District 12 weren't supposed to like Cassia, or himself for that matter. Things were supposed to be hard for him, according to Snow. And this was the most effective way to explain that to the victor and his daughter.

Snow's threats were few and far between in those years, but scarring and extreme. Because of these, Effie began to act like the Capitol machine she should have been, painting on a thicker facade. She couldn't treat any tributes like children who were absent from her lonely life. Haymitch became a recluse, fully. He allowed people to believe that he'd paid for a night in the Capitol, and Cassia was a product of that. He couldn't fight back when abuse was shouted at them in the street.

Effie and Haymitch became powerless, thanks to Snow. The next time they saw each other, she showed him the burn on the inside of her lip that would probably never go away, and he showed her the scars on his side from being kicked to the ground. These marks ran deeper than skin. This unconventional family would suffer their whole lives through for defying the order of life in Panem. Capitol and Districts did not mix, not like this, and surely not in love.

(Hey, readers! You guys are amazing and you motivate me to write all the time. I'm so grateful for reviews and how nice you guys are! Thank you!)


	11. The Reaping of the Third Quarter Quell

Knowledge of Katniss' experiences hardened Cassia over time. She learned a little more - as her father had deemed her old enough - of Haymitch's family's fate. She could understand why she'd been separated from her mother, why the graves of her grandparents guilted her dear father, why he never touched alcohol, or even a hot toddy in the winter. Soon, innocence was a lost concept, and Cassia was forced to grow up quicker. Luckily, Katniss' stunt in the arena had pulled Snow's attention from the Abernathys. With the Quarter Quell coming, Haymitch confided in her that he didn't expect things to be fair, that something was going to happen, likely to Katniss, possibly to himself.

"Papa... Existing pool of victors? Does that mean it could be you?" Cassia asked, turning her head slowly to her father, who was silently staring at the Snow's official address on the television. She understood that Katniss would have to go for definite.

"Yes, sweetheart." He said, gritting his teeth and frowning. He'd have to protect Katniss. She already felt like a daughter to him, it would be wrong not to die for her when she'd been so willing to die for Cassia. He was no longer Snow's target, he could do as he pleased. "You can come with us to the Capitol this year." He said quietly, kissing Cassia's head then staring forward at the wall.

In the Capitol, seated on a white leather sofa, with cheese and biscuits and fluffy white slippers, Effie was perched. She watched intently, then dropped her food when Snow's words processed in her mind. Throughout her life, she'd looked forward to witnessing the address of a Quarter Quell, as she remembered hearing the announcement back on the Second Quell when she was young. This should have been an occasion to celebrate, an excuse to have a party. But Effie was no longer so naive. "Haymitch. Peeta. Katniss." The escort whispered, letting out a loud, pained cry. "Cassia." She didn't care who heard through her apartment walls, she'd have nothing if something were to happen to Haymitch. Cassia would effectively be an orphan. If it hadn't been bad enough calling her daughter's name at the Reaping, she'd have to Reap the only man who'd ever loved her, exactly one year to the day.

When the day came, Effie was not allowed to see Haymitch beforehand, as she usually did. She longed for the days when she'd see her little girl before the Reaping, and Haymitch would stand in the doorway with a little smirk on his face. She wanted to hold her daughter and smile as the little girl rambled on about the year Effie had missed; but those days were gone. Effie would never be a mother to a little girl again; everyone had been forced to grow up quicker.

When Effie pulled Katniss' name from the bowl, it still hurt, even if it wasn't a shock. "Now, for the men." She said. They were both men, respectable, strong men, who deserved so much better. "Haymitch Abernathy." She called, barely able to sob. Obviously, Peeta was going to volunteer. When he did so, she put her arm around the two tributes and watched as District 12 saluted them quietly. She hated to be thankful for this outcome, but she was.

Once they'd left the stage, Haymitch placed a hand on Effie's back. Immediately, the woman turned and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. "I thought I'd lost you." She whispered, holding him close. Honestly, she didn't care if the peacekeepers saw. Something big was going to happen, and she had a feeling Haymitch knew about it. "We're not coming back, are we?" Effie whispered, once the peacekeepers were gone.

"We're not, sweetheart." He said discreetly. "I have to get Cassie." He frowned, kissing Effie's head and wading through the departing crowd outside.

Effie walked to the train, heels clicking. She looked at her tributes... Victors... Saviours. "Katniss, Peeta. I am aware that your actions over the past year were not done in order to save those dearest to me, but inadvertently, you have allowed my family to escape a death sentence. I'll never... Be able to thank you enough for such... Such wonderful, I... For saving my family when I couldn't even be there to love them." The escort struggled, her composure faltering, turning to a pained sob, tears running down her cheeks. Peeta was the one who stood and encased her in a hug.

Katniss and Peeta left the carriage when they heard Haymitch and Cassia enter. The two blondes looked at Effie's messed up makeup and teary eyes, and approached her. "Mother." Cassia whispered, wrapping her arms around Effie. She could do nothing but crouch down and hold her daughter close.

That night, Haymitch lay in bed with Effie, holding her close. The soft clatter of the train against the tracks was a comforting rythm, whilst the anxiety and stress of the day was barely wearing off. "She almost cried when I told her we didn't have time to say bye to Primrose... Not Katniss, I'm talking about Cassia."

"Are they good friends?" Effie asked fondly, smiling slightly. The thought of her daughter actually having a friend and being happy was a very comforting one.

Haymitch smirked. "Well, yeah. Prim volunteered for her, 'course Katniss pretended it was her, but really it was Prim." He said, rubbing Effie's back.

Effie gave him a small smile, then stopped. "Is this the calm before the storm, Haymitch?" The escort's tone came through more serious than ever.

"Go to sleep, princess." He murmured.


	12. The Winter Before the 65th Reaping

(Sorry about what happened with this chapter. I uploaded one then wasn't happy with it, so I deleted it. As you might have seen, there's a little pattern with this fic: a flashback then something for the storyline. I forgot to do a flashback, so here's that! Again, very sorry. Thank you for all the reviews, you have no idea how much I love reading them!)

"I never understood this holiday." Haymitch said, brushing his sleeve and looking over at Effie. The escort wore what he could only describe as an abomination. It was a crimson velvet dress, whose skirt was so stiff that it didn't move when she walked, it stayed splaying outward. The short, sleeveless number was lined at the edges with ivory-coloured fur. "It's a Capitol tradition. I shouldn't even be here."

"Well, President Snow wanted a festive party with the victors, and you are a victor." Effie said, lips matching the velvet. She pursed them and looked at him. He was acting strangely, he was distant and difficult, like he had been before.

"Remind me again why you look so damn cute in velvet." Haymitch grumbled, still annoyed. He walked over and kissed her cheek, then helped her with the giant green bow around her waist. She giggled, and he continued with this rant. "Do you celebrate every year?"

"Yes. Every year. Always. Before the Dark Days, this was an ancient tradition. It's in my history, darling. I'm actually quite looking forward to a good party." She said, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She had to pretend she wanted to be there, or she ran a risk of Snow targeting her. Cassia was three now, Effie needed to start adjusting to a life without access to her daughter, and hiding the pain had been somewhat effective.

Shaking hands struggling to fix the black bowtie around his neck, Haymitch complained quietly to himself. Effie brought her hands up to the bow, pulling it and smiling at him. She took his hand and walked him outside, down the street toward the mansion. Snow's home was adorned with lights, decorations and pine trees in every direction. Not one person was dressed down, it was extravagant. The table was laid with turkey, vegetables of all kinds and an array of sauces. Effie turned to Haymitch and frowned. "Not quite like home?" She asked, realising he was uncomfortable. He shrugged her hand off of his arm roughly.

"I didn't want to leave her twice in one year. Makes me a bad father." He said, grabbing some food for himself.

"It's better than leaving her all her life." Effie hissed. How could he insult her this way? If he was a bad father, she didn't deserve the title of 'mother'. Then again, perhaps she didn't deserve to be called mother at all. Effie turned in her fluffy heels and marched to the dancefloor. She smiled politely as she touched a gamemaker on the back lightly. He turned and she asked him to dance. None of this bothered Haymitch, until the song turned slow.

Effie's head rested on the man's chest, listening to his heartbeat and ensuring that she didn't take in his scent. With her eyes closed, it was easy enough to pretend this was Haymitch. The escort was accustomed to pretending people were Haymitch. She let him guide her slowly, throughout the song. "That was quite wonderful, Haymitch." She mumbled, almost inaudibly. When she looked up, the man was smiling down at her, and she felt a sinking feeling when she remembered that she'd only been pretending. She turned her head quickly and realised Haymitch wasn't where she had left him.

Haymitch could only watch for a few seconds, before he had to leave. He walked through the large palace gates, snow covering the ground lightly. He left footprints, walking alone to an empty road. The Capitol was abandoned. Families were inside their warm homes together, people were having parties and dinners, and everyone else was stuck with Snow at his gathering. Haymitch smiled as he saw mothers with little girls when he walked past the lit windows. He'd never seen the Capitol so beautiful before now. On that empty sidewalk, beneath a streetlight, with Haymitch's footprints the only imperfection in that blanket of snow, he began to grin. He heard a song, coming from somewhere, a Capitol song he recognised. Something about love, as songs usually were. He sang along, quiet and out of tune, but smiling as he walked along. The second he stopped for a breath, his singing ceased. When he turned his head, behind him was a figure.

Effie's pale form glowed in the streetlights, her small footsteps having traced Haymitch here, she was glad she'd found him. There were tears in Effie's bright eyes as she looked at him. "I... I shouldn't have." She whispered, taking a few more steps toward him.

"Me either." Haymitch said, walking a little closer to her.

Almost falling in the snow, Effie took three quick steps to Haymitch and pulled him in close. They didn't need to talk about Haymitch's blunder or Effie's behaviour, they were both over it in that second. "You know, Haymitch. It's the last dance that's important. Of course I was going to save that for you." She whispered, smiling up at him. She fixed his bowtie one more time, then pecked his lips.

"How 'bout we have that here?" Haymitch said, taking her waist and kissing her head as she relaxed against him, dancing to the quiet music in the distance.


	13. The Eve of Peeta's Rescue

"Come in." Effie called tiredly, laying on her bed in District 13. She watched as the door opened, and managed a genuine smile as her daughter entered the room. "Come here." She said, offering the space beside her in bed. The escort couldn't resist putting her arms around her daughter and just laying there with her. She loved being near Cassia, she loved having someone to actually love. She and Haymitch were the only thing making this subterranean dictatorship even remotely bearable for Effie. The claustrophobia of the area was almost crippling. "Where's your father?"

"With Plutarch, he told me I had to go, they're talking about something important." She shrugged, cuddling close to her mother. Effie's hair was tied in a scarf, because it made her feel a little more at home. She admired her daughter's beautiful long blonde hair.

"Did your father used to brush your hair for you?" Effie asked, smiling fondly. There were so many things she didn't know about Cassia, just little things she couldn't be around for.

"Of course he did, his hair's almost as long as mine." Cassia teased, smirking at Effie.

The former escort chuckled. "I can't quite envision him tidying anything up. His hair is never going to get this long, I'll cut it off in his sleep if it does." She joked, sarcasm heavy in her voice as she muttered the last part. Her daughter responded by laughing. Once their amusement had died down, Cassia stood and walked to a stool near Effie's desk. On the stool, sat the one pair of heels she'd rescued from the Capitol, and on the desk, designs were laid out. Designs for new dresses, shirts, entire outfits; everything was constructed from her issued uniform.

Cassia felt a surge of pride. "Mama, this is so cool. That's so creative." She said, looking at the designs. She always called her 'mother', but Haymitch's influence sometimes bled through. Effie found it terribly endearing.

"You I like it? I didn't quite think it'd be your cup of tea. Your father said you liked pretty dresses but I... I always assumed you'd grow to be more like him." She said, amazed that her daughter, against all odds, was actually anything like her at all.

"Oh, mother, really? Did you think I'd be some kinda geese herder?" Cassia asked, smiling. Her accent was strange, sometimes articulate and calculated like her mother's, but almost always in a rough, District tone, with a few slang terms slipped in.

Effie laughed and kissed Cassia's head, then hugged her close. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" She asked quietly, Cassia's head pressed against her chest.

Cassia looked at the list printed on her hand. "I have a free hour, so Prim and I are gonna go check out the hospital, see if we could lend a hand somewhere, Prim's good at that kind of stuff. She's really thoughtful, and sweet, for helping the wounded... And things..." She smiled, pecking her mother's cheek and rushing out. On the way she smacked right into her father's chest.

"Woah, slow down there, little lady." Haymitch gently pushed the teenager back and smiled. "Where are you off to in such a rush anyway, sweetheart?" He asked, turning his head when he heard a quiet giggle, then giving Cassia a knowing look when he saw Prim behind him, amused at her friend's haste. "I see. Well, enjoy yourself." He said, kissing her cheek, then shutting the door as he entered the room.

Effie stood in the middle of the floor, arms crossed, looking a little mad. Before he could utter the word his mouth had tried to form - 'princess', Effie suspected - she stopped him. "Important discussions with Plutarch, hm? Well, how about you tell Heavensbee that I, one of his loyal rebels, who went against everything she knows to change this broken society, am stuck here doing nothing as instructed by him. Does nobody have faith in me here, Haymitch? Hm?" She asked, teeth gritted, head tilted and lips pursed.

Haymitch could barely take Effie seriously. With a silly scarf on her head, in a jumpsuit, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Calm down, sweetheart. You're not mad about this, you're agitated. I know you... It's claustrophobia, right? You don't like it here." He said, taking a leaf from her book by stopping her before she could retaliate. "Plutarch and I were discussing the Peeta situation. It was pretty urgent and sensitive, you got a little upset last time. I didn't want to make that worse." He explained carefully, putting his hands on her small shoulders. The smile disappeared from Haymitch's face. "The rescue is happening tonight." Haymitch spoke quietly, Effie's arms winding around him and pulling him close.

"I'm sorry." Effie responded, overwhelmed with the thought of seeing Peeta again, and amazed by Haymitch's wisdom. She felt so responsible for Peeta's fate, because he'd volunteered over Haymitch, who would have died far more quickly and swiftly. They could have avoided all of this torture if she'd just picked the other name out of the bowl. Haymitch held Effie for some time. Life was far better now Haymitch had someone to help him relax, someone who could take care of him and understand his feelings properly; someone who could steady his shaking hands.

He smiled at the thought of Effie being so close to him, then pulled away from her. "At least Cassia's happy here. It's like people finally understand her." He commented, Effie sitting beside him on their bed. He wanted to change the subject. "And she has Prim."

Effie nodded, sniffing. The thought of Cassia being happy was terribly comforting. "Those two are like us, brought together by circumstance... Divine proof that there is such thing as good fortune. That's what we are, Haymitch. We should hold onto that - good fortune is all we can hope for."

Haymitch gave Effie a smile and kissed her temple. "You know what, Effie, I do like you better without all that makeup, because you look just like her." He smirked, stroking her cheek.

"Like me? Really, Haymitch, come on. You've loved me for years." She teased, lying back in his arms and letting out a contented sigh.

"You got that right, princess." He mused, kissing her hair.


	14. The 60th Hunger Games

For Haymitch Abernathy, a wedding wasn't something he'd ever expected to have, not since Snow had slaughtered his family, anyway. Even when he grew to care for Effie, he didn't think of himself as marriage material. "What are you doing?" Haymitch asked, frustrated, as Effie halted at the threshold to his bedroom in the Capitol, yanking him backward. He wasn't drunk tonight, which made him a little more irritable.

"Well... Haymitch, I've been thinking. What you and I do, it's quite improper. Especially considering your District's traditions. Perhaps we should cross the threshold together?" Effie asked, looking up at him with a small smile on her face. Had she planned this? After all, she was wearing predominantly white, which was a Capitol wedding tradition.

Haymitch complied and sat on his bed, then raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you turn the damn heat off in my room?" He asked, shuddering.

Effie held back a smirk and sat before the fireplace. "Can't you just pass some coal over and help me build a fire?" She asked, looking back at him. He paused for a while, raising an eyebrow. Without a word, Haymitch sat beside her and placed a few pieces of coal in the fireplace, to which Effie lit a match. The fire burned slow to begin with, Haymitch's hand guiding Effie's as she lit it.

"Effie, if you'd told me..." The mentor began.

"I didn't want to." She said, bringing out a loaf of fresh bread. "As much as I'd love a three-day extravaganza, dancing in the streets with you and eating and drinking to our hearts' content, we can't have that. We're not permitted to do things like that, or this, as a matter of fact. But you have to spend all of your time in my city, doing what my people do... This is more meaningful, because I want to know more about your traditions, they're not as hollow as mine are." Effie whispered, breaking the bread with her small hands.

Haymitch smiled and put an arm around her, the remaining flecks of coal dust staining the waistband of her rather understated white dress. He pressed his lips to hers as they toasted the bread slowly. "Am I right in saying 'til death do us part?" He asked, knowing very little of the Capitol's traditions.

"In sickness and in health." She grinned kissing his cheek then resting against his chest as they began to eat the toasted bread. "Is this good enough? I know it isn't our home, or a place we hold dear, in fact, it's somewhere you're not a very big fan of at all. Do you like it?" She asked, sighing a little. Her smile had faltered.

"I do." Haymitch smirked, cuddling her close as he pressed his back against the couch, watching the fire they'd made together. The flames danced and flickered, mesmerising and calming. For a few seconds he forgot all of their problems and hurdles, and remembered nothing but the small fact that Effie Trinket was as good as officially being his wife. "Maybe one day, when you retire, you could come live with me. Fake your own death, maybe." He teased, lips on her pale forehead.

Effie turned in his arms and smiled, but deep down she knew there was nothing for her in Twelve. They'd only fight and drift apart. She needed something to make her stay, to give her a purpose. By having a daughter some years later, her wish came true. Though Haymitch and Effie considered themselves married, privately, they still fought and became a little estranged in the weeks of the year where he was in Twelve, drinking, and she was socialising. Despite this, neither of them would ever regret marrying each other.


	15. The Rebels' Victory

"You wouldn't let her go alone, would you?" Effie asked, fixing Haymitch's coat as they stood outside a hovercraft. Cassia was flying in with the medical teams, with Prim. Cassia couldn't quite comprehend how dangerous this was, she just thought she'd be helping the wounded. Stubborn like her father, she wouldn't back down. Effie's expression was filled with worry, which echoed in her trembling voice.

"Why else would I be going out there? Eff, I'll keep her safe, I swear." He said softly, kissing Effie's cheek then letting her hand drop from his grasp. She watched him go, pushing the tears back to prevent them from falling.

The hovercraft landed in a ruined Capitol, which Haymitch was glad Effie couldn't see. She may have hated the Capitol for what it stole from her, but it was her home. He walked by some of their old haunts from when he used to come over on victors' business, before Cassia, most stripped of furniture or blown to pieces. A picture house caught his eye. He remembered seeing a movie there with Effie. Haymitch couldn't remember a single frame of the movie, but he'd never forget Effie's smile when he put his arm around her or how perfect she looked when he draped his coat around her and walked her home.

Maybe it was a good thing. It gave them a blank page to start again. The Capitol's surrender was bound to come soon. They were struggling. As bombs dropped, shots were fired, panic ensued, Haymitch did nothing but look for his little girl in the carnage. "Cassie!" He shouted, standing before the presidential palace gates, he could finally see her. She was helping the wounded after a bomb, and he could hear Katniss screaming for Prim, just yards behind him. Haymitch reached forward to grab Cassia, realising what was about to happen. Haymitch's little girl turned to him.

This half a second played out like an hour. He watched everything. His arms reaching out, his legs kicking the ground away from him in an effort to reach Cassia. Prim, with a look of horror on her face, grabbed Cassia's shoulders and threw her towards Haymitch. The Abernathy girl lurched forward, collapsing into her father's arms, who cradled her against his chest, crouched, and hoped to shield her from the blast. "Papa." Cassia whispered, before an earth-shattering clatter of explosions tore through the air and burned through Haymitch's back, the pain immediately knocking him unconscious.

As Haymitch came to in a hospital bed, Effie stood before her husband. After all that had happened, it didn't seem that legality mattered, the two were married as far as they were concerned. "Oh, darling." She breathed, relieved he was awake. She pressed a hand to his arm and smiled sadly at him. The ordeal was bittersweet. "We won." She murmured, swallowing, then her eyes filled with tears.

"Effie, Effie, what? Is she alright!?" Haymitch asked, his voice hoarse, sitting up too quickly then crying out in pain.

"Rest!" She scolded, pressing a hand to his chest and resting him back. "Cassia is fine. Thanks to you, not a scratch on her. She's quite... drained, she's resting. Haymitch, Primrose didn't make it." Effie made eye contact with Haymitch. The tears spilled over, and she could barely keep her composure. "She loved her so much." Effie was an escort; composure was her job, but not anymore. Now she was free, she could cry all she liked.

Haymitch's face turned down in disappointment. "Princess... It's not me who saved her life. It's Prim. She pushed her toward me, without her, our little girl wouldn't be here." Cassia heard her father whisper. She was stood in the doorway. She had been for some time. The young girl had just finished a conversation with Katniss. Both of them needed someone to communicate with, and in Haymitch's absence, they had to make do with each other. It was strangely comforting, to talk to another Everdeen, someone she'd grown up with and someone who was so close to Prim, was helping her come to terms with it. In turn, Katniss felt as though she was connecting with Prim when she talked to Cassia.

"Papa, mother." She murmured as she entered the room, looking at her parents. "Thank you, papa, you saved my life..." Cassia said, heart aching with all he'd done for her, her whole life.

Haymitch smiled sadly. "Sweetheart, you saved ours years ago." He said, sitting up slowly with Effie's help. The former escort sat beside him, holding his hand, as Cassia climbed into the bed the other side of him. "Primrose saved our lives, Cass." He reminded his daughter, tears filling his eyes as Cassia looked even sadder. "So, we need to make the most of the lives Prim ensured for us." He explained.

The three of them almost felt like they had no purpose. They'd spent so much time fighting adversity, helping the rebels, keeping secrets, being abused by their own government; they couldn't remember what life was supposed to be like. Effie was the first to speak during their light embrace. "We'll go back to District Twelve and help them rebuild. Then we'll live lives like people who can be happy. We can finally be a family... Eventually, this is going to get better. Your father knows what rising from the ashes is like, and Cassia, I will do everything in my power to ensure your recovery isn't half as difficult as his was." She explained, holding them both carefully. "We can be with Katniss and Peeta. We'll all be the families we thought we'd lost." She sniffed, sobbing a little.

Haymitch appreciated her sincerity very much. She was a kind, intelligent woman. "You're good when you talk from the heart, princess." He smirked, kissing her lips gently, then resting back painfully, still holding hands with his girls.


	16. The Epilogue

"Mother, careful!" Cassia scolded as she rushed into the kitchen. Effie's tired hands clutched a worktop as her feet struggled to drag the comparably small heels she was wearing. "You need to rest. You shouldn't be wearing those."

"Your mama can do what she likes, sweetheart." Haymitch said, coming through the doorway with a smirk, giving Effie an arm and walking her to the couch. "Although, you are the doctor around here... Care to tell us how we're doing?" He teased, sitting down with his wife and holding her hand.

The younger blonde sat opposite them in a large leather armchair, a strange sight for Haymitch, as he never thought she'd grow up. To him, she was still the tiny girl swinging her legs as she sat on his armchair. She crossed her long legs and smiled at the two of them. "The both of you seem just fine."

"Now, Cassia, darling. How is our Primrose?" Effie asked, lifting her head, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she grinned. She never thought she'd grow old so gracefully.

"Perfect." Cassia smiled, finally acknowledging the tiny form in her arms. The little girl wiggled in her mother's arms, letting out small squawks, as if she knew Effie had been talking about her. "I think she's missing her grandparents."

"C'mere, Rosie." Haymitch said, reaching for the newborn. The room was silent for a moment, as Haymitch held the child for the thousandth time. He could almost cry every time he thought of her. She made Effie and Cassia so happy, they deserved after all they'd been through. "Cassie, she's gonna change your life, you know. And once you think she's done changing it, she'll do it again. Believe me, I should know." He said, leaning into his wife's soft blonde hair as Effie's hand wound around his forearm, smiling at her granddaughter.

Cassia admired her parents for a few moments, whilst they held her little girl. "I don't doubt that for a second." She whispered, leaning over to place a kiss on her father's rough cheek and taking her mother's hand. "Thanks for doing this, we're exhausted... I'm going for a long nap." She laughed slightly, kissing Rose's head then her mother's cheek.

Once she'd left, Effie took Primrose in her arms. "We're getting old, aren't we, Haymitch?" She murmured, holding the little girl. Haymitch smiled at her and Effie kissed his lips as she held Rose against her chest. "This is how it should have been, when we were young. I understand that we're only in our sixties but... Goodness, I feel a thousand when I see Cassia and Primrose." She said, biting her lip and holding back tears.

Haymitch saw that she was upset and cupped her cheek, running his thumb along it and giving her a sad smile. "You don't look it, sweetheart. Still look just like that pretty little escort I met at the Games." He said, pulling her onto his lap and putting a hand on Rose's back, over Effie's. The cold touch of his wedding ring scraped against Effie's, and she grinned.

"Though my hair has gone from gold to silver... You've changed, you're much more civilised than that boy you once were." She told him, smirking and pressing her lips to his.

"Whatever keeps you happy, sweetheart." Haymitch whispered once their lips had parted.

(It has been an absolute pleasure to write this and read your reviews. Thank you so much for the time you gave my stories, you're wonderful people.)


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